You know how sometimes taking a shower is a chore? I don’t get why, but there are plenty of times I just don’t want to.
Some of my reasons:
- I don’t want to get up, I’m comfortable here.
- It’s too hard.
- I’ll have to move my arms a bunch.
- I’ll do it tomorrow.
And in that mood, once I finally do shower, yeah, it’s a chore. Get it done, get out, go back to doing whatever I was doing (or not doing) before. Eh.
But then there are those other times, those times when I step under the hot water and realize my whole life has been waiting for this. I was meant to be in the shower. I live here now. In fact, I’m typing this from the shower. (Okay, I’m not, but I wish I were.) The water is hot, the bathroom is warm and steamy, my shampoo smells good, I’m warm and comfortable and no, I’m never coming out.
Whoever invented the hot shower should be celebrated around the world, praised be their name.
But then, the sudden but inevitable betrayal*: the hot water runs out, the water goes cold, and I reach for a towel, sad and bereft.
*All sudden but inevitable betrayals boil down to this: